AN: Yes, I do love Leia a lot. All of the women in Star Wars deserved better than they got.

Shoot first. Kill it, if you have to (Time Travel, Han Solo Style)

By Indygodusk

Chapter 4 - Talking to Skywalkers

The ugly, rounded sandstone towers of Mos Eisley finally appeared in the distance. They were approaching the town gate where Han had promised to leave Shmi—almost home-free—when the conversation abruptly turned.

"I keep getting the strangest feeling that I should tell you my old name," Shmi said, hands pressing together almost as if in prayer.

Was it just a strange feeling? Or a strange 'Feeling' with a capital /F/ for the Force? Han's feelings about that were the same either way. "I don't care about your old name," he said, keeping his eyes on the gate as he increased his speed. "It doesn't matter. Really, sister, don't sweat it. I don't want to get any more involved than I already am."

Humming, she tilted her head to the side. Her stare felt like being under the glare of a hot spotlight. Han pretended it didn't bother him and that the new sweat trickling down his cheek was just from the sun. "I believe you," she said slowly, "but I feel like I should tell you anyway. Before marrying I was called—"

If Han hadn't been driving, he would've put his hands over his ears, not caring how childish it looked. "I don't wanna know!"

"—Shmi Skywalker," she said insistently, her voice ringing in his ears like an alarm klaxon.

Jerking on the yoke, Han sent the speeder careening sideways, slamming Shmi up against his side as he almost crashed and then sending her sliding back against the door when he overcorrected. "Skywalker! You're a Skywalker!?" he shouted, feeling winded.

There was no way that was a coincidence. No. Way. She must've been the lady Anakin was so hot for Han to save, but how? Han would've sworn Anakin had disappeared completely after leading him into that ambush. He had nothing to do with Han deciding to steal this speeder or getting lost and heading out into the desert to hide, so how had Han ended up in the right place to save Shmi anyway? Even when he'd first noticed her, he hadn't intended to save her or get involved. If the wind hadn't moved her hair at just the right moment to show her face, he would've left her to her fate. It had been a case of mistaken identity and impulse. A one-in-a-million chance.

An annoying memory of Luke pretending to be wise popped into his head. "There's chance and there's the Force."

Stupid, creepy Force.

Groaning softly as the speeder stabilized, Shmi wrapped an arm around her side and gingerly pushed away from the door. A scab on her ear had ripped off, sending a fresh trickle of blood down her neck to cut through the grime caked over her skin, adding a fresh red stain to the filthy collar of her tunic. She'd already been injured, so being jostled like that must've made her feel even worse.

"Sorry," Han blurted, feeling guilty for hurting her and blindsided by her name, which in retrospect was pretty a stupid reaction because Anakin had been ragging on him ever since he'd woken up to hurry up and save "her" and then a few hours later Han had stumbled across a "her" to save. He should've put the clues together way earlier. Han couldn't stop feeling stupid and frustrated, but he could slow his speed and do a better job of not hurting the lady worse than she already was. The lady who was technically his grandmother-in-law.

Shmi carefully sat back in her seat, pushing her hair off her face and tucking it behind her ears. She should've been mad that he'd hurt her with his bad driving, but instead, she gave him a blindingly bright smile and started firing off questions so quickly he didn't have time to respond to the first before she was already on the third. "You know the name? Maybe from my son, Ani? He lives on Coruscant. Anakin Skywalker? He's a Jedi now. Do you know how he is? Have you met him?" She leaned towards him in her seat, eager and hopeful with her hands clasped in front of her chest.

"Unfortunately," Han said, curling his lip as he focused on the approaching town, still trying to decide how he felt about this. "He's a tyrannical, mass-murdering psychopath, but you seem like a decent lady, so I guess Luke and Leia did get some of their good traits from your side and not only their mom's, even if it did skip a generation with that guy."

Shmi's eyes went wide in shock as the smile dropped from her face. "I—I don't know who you're talking about, but that can't be my Ani. You're wrong, mistaken. He's good. That—that can't be my son. No. That must be someone else." She shook her head from side to side.

"Whatever you say, lady." Han shrugged. "Supposedly, he's trying to be better now." Though Han didn't buy it.

Chewing her lower lip, Shmi looked away and wrung her hands in her lap. "I know my son and I love him. That man you describe, that's not him… and if it was, then I know he must've had his reasons." Expression going hard, she raised her chin and looked back at Han with stubborn devotion. "Sometimes it's more practical and prudent to take a life, especially when it serves both justice and mercy. You have to believe me, my Ani is a sweet, kind boy. He always wants to help people, to protect them. He even promised to come back once he's a Jedi and free all of us slaves."

Han felt his brows go up in surprise. He'd forgotten that Anakin and his mother had been slaves. Leia had only mentioned it once and Han hadn't cared at the time. He still didn't, to be perfectly honest. It wasn't a good enough excuse to go Dark side, enslave other people, torture your kids and their significant others, and almost destroy the galaxy because you'd been hurt and wanted everyone else to feel the same or worse. So what if Vader had been born a slave? It didn't justify what he'd done. Having a horrible childhood wasn't exactly a unique experience—little orphan Han says hi from where he's living hand to mouth on the mean streets of Corellia only to be scooped up as a toddler by a crime lord and forced to steal or be viciously beaten.

At least Anakin had grown up with a mother who'd loved him, who still loved him. Lots of kids didn't have that. Han couldn't even remember having parents. Anakin had also been rescued by the Jedi and trained. No one had rescued Han. He'd been forced to rescue himself. If Anakin didn't like being a Jedi, he could've just run away instead of slaughtering the Jedi, setting the Republic on fire, and leaving his children and grandchildren a toxic legacy.

Anakin may have wanted to help free people as a child, but as an adult, he'd made the conscious choice to hurt and enslave other people instead. It wasn't a unique response. Bad people all over the galaxy did the same. Han knew all about having no good choices, but at some point, you had to draw a line in the sand and decide what type of person you were going to let yourself be. Transporting a Wookie named Chewbacca into slavery had been Han's moral line in the sand. He didn't know what event had made Anakin Skywalker step over that line to the Dark Side, but he wished for the galaxy's sake that the guy figured it out quicker this go around. Maybe listening to his mom more would've helped with that.

While he'd been lost in thought, he'd missed Shmi quietly panicking and coming to the worst conclusion. Sucking in a sharp breath, she grabbed Han's arm in a tight grip. "Please, I'm not a slave anymore, I promise. I didn't escape anyone. No master is looking to buy me back and there's no money in turning me in. Cliegg freed me. I'm a free woman, I promise. Poor, but free."

"Hey, calm down, lady," Han said, patting the hand clutching at his arm and trying not to swerve again. "I believe you… and even if I didn't, I don't like slavery. You're safe with me. Alright? You're safe."

They finally reached Mos Eisley's gate. Resisting temptation, Han slowed but heroically didn't stop the speeder. He couldn't just kick Shmi out now, no matter how unexpectedly complicated her rescue was getting. She was Leia's grandmother and Leia would box his ears if she found out he'd treated the woman with such disrespect.

"I really don't have the gas to drive you home," he said begrudgingly, the excuse more for his absent wife than the woman riding next to him, "but I can take you to a house in town if you know anybody who'd help you the rest of the way."

"Oh, I—yes. Thank you." Dropping her hand to her lap, Shmi blinked wet eyes but thankfully didn't start crying. She looked too tired to cry. "I'd appreciate that. I can give you directions."

Luckily the building wasn't too far away, since Shmi seemed wary and uncomfortable for the rest of the ride. As soon as they reached it, Han parked and jumped out, opening the other door to help Shmi climb out of the speeder so he could be done with this uncomfortable situation. She struggled to climb down, her injuries catching up with her. Making sure she wasn't about to fall over, Han turned to close her door and saw the door to the house thrown open.

A young man came running out. He looked like a stereotypical farmer—tall and broad with golden brown hair bleached by the sun. "Shmi!"

"Owen," Shmi cried in a choked voice, raising her arms to greet him as she pulled away from Han and limped forward.

Owen jerked to a stop before he could bowl Shmi over and leaned down to enfold her in a soft but fierce embrace. "You're alive," he gasped against her hair. "We were all so worried. Da had almost given up hope, but you're alive!" His arms tightened convulsively. Shmi winced but didn't tell him to stop, she just hugged him back with a quivering sigh.

"Hey, be gentle, kid. She's hurt, you know," Han said.

Expression shutting down faster than a blast door, Owen pulled Shmi behind his body and gave Han a hostile look. "And just who might you be, stranger?"

"Han Solo, the guy who rescued her. Who are you?" Han put his hand on his hips, affronted.

Throwing back his shoulders and pursing his lips, the young man looked Han up and down. "I'm Owen Lars, her stepson. We'll take care of her from now on. You can go."

"Owen," Shmi said in an exhausted voice. "Manners."

About to say something sarcastic after the rude brush-off, Han abruptly realized who this surly kid had to be. "Wait, you're Luke's Uncle Owen!" he exclaimed with delight, pointing at the kid as his mind filled with questions. So many questions. He was just as protective of family and antagonistic to everyone else as Luke had always described. Unfortunately, Owen looked too young to have met Luke yet, so he probably didn't have any embarrassing stories.

Head going back, Owen frowned at Han and crossed his arms. "I'm nobody's uncle. You must be confused."

A young woman about Owen's age peeked out the house window at them. Delighted, Han laughed. "Is Aunt Beru here too?" He sent her a wave.

Beru started to wave and smile back only to stop and tilt her head to the side when she didn't recognize him. Darting a glance over at a scowling Owen and bemused Shmi, she lifted her arm to reveal a blaster. She held it with an ease that spoke of competence. Aiming it at Han, she sent him a guilty look, though he had no double she'd still shoot him if he did anything to threaten her family. It was adorable and so like how Luke would've responded. Han wished Luke was here too.

Before he could get too maudlin, he had another delightful thought. Did this mean the Organa were alive out there right now too? He could go and meet Leia's parents! Han was tempted for all of five seconds…until he realized that they'd either hate him on sight or have him arrested for being crazy and trespassing in their palace on Alderaan (which wasn't destroyed yet!). He gave up on meeting them as a bad idea, though just knowing they were alive and the planet still around made him happy for Leia.

He had way less interest in Leia's biological parents. He'd already had the misfortune of meeting Anakin Skywalker and would be happy to never see or speak to the guy again. As for Leia's mother, to their best guess she was some mid-rim politician. Han had met more than enough politicians during his time as Leia's husband. There was a small part of Han that was curious about what kind of person would fall for Anakin Skywalker and somehow transmute that turd into gold with the twins, but not enough to actually put any effort in.

Scowling, Owen stepped forward to stand between Han and his family and jerked his head towards the speeder. "Time to drive on, Solo." Looking over his shoulder at a touch on his back from Shmi, he gave a heavy sigh before turning back to Han begrudgingly. "Thanks for your help and safe travels."

Han could take a hint. It was time to leave before this stopped being fun. Stepping back, he sent Shmi a casual salute. "So long and good luck with everything." He meant to leave it there, but looking back at her too-familiar brown eyes, he couldn't help but add a genuine, "May the Force be with you."

Lips parting, Shmi's eyes went wide at his words. Han felt his ears go hot. There probably weren't a lot of people who invoked the Force around here. Han himself hadn't believed the Force anything more than dumb superstition until he'd met Luke. Embarrassed, he hopped in the speeder, disengaged the brake, and drove off without looking back.

Not sure where to go now, Han found himself pulling up to the docking bay he'd always used as a smuggler working out of Mos Eisley. The day was almost done but the exterior lights hadn't turned on yet, draping the parking area in overlapping shadows from the waning twin suns. Han climbed out of the speeder and did a careful scan to double-check that he was alone before crossing his arms, leaning back against the speeder, and tipping his head back to stare up at the twin suns painting the sky orange and dusky blue. "Hey Anakin, are you ready to come back and help me with the plan? I saved her, so am I done here yet? Isn't that what you wanted me to do?"

Turning at a flicker in the corner of his eye, Han saw the glowing blue ghost of Anakin leaning on the speeder next to him. Anakin was staring up at the sunset too. "Thank you for saving her before it was too late."

"You're welcome." Han was just turning back to watch the sunset when he had an unpleasant thought. "Did she not get saved last time?"

"I saved her…but not until weeks later. I was too late." Head dropping, his eyes fell to shadows as the lines around his mouth deepened. "She died." Hugging his arms across his chest, his throat worked as he swallowed. "It was bad."

That sounded like an understatement. "She seemed like a nice lady," Han offered.

"She was. She was the best," Anakin said fiercely, hands clenching into the fabric of his sleeves.

"She knew a lot of interesting things about jury-rigging engines." Han tucked his hands into his pockets and looked out at the first stars twinkling along the deep blue horizon. Thin wispy clouds blew across the sky, lined in orange-gold. "She was easy to talk to." Han turned to him with a smile, thinking they were having a bonding moment, only for Anakin to jump forward, pivot on his heel, and skewer Han with a vicious glare as his finger stabbed through the air.

"How dare you!"

Head going back, Han put a hand on his chest. "Me?"

"Why did you have to bad-mouth me to my mom? That was completely uncalled for!" Throwing up his hands, the ghost started pacing. "The Anakin of this timeline hasn't even done anything that bad." His eyes shifted away and back suspiciously. "Not yet."

"Look, I was caught off guard, but it's not like I said anything bad on purpose," Han said, crossing his arms. "And saying 'not yet' isn't exactly comforting! I was just calling a spade a spade. Besides, maybe having a little warning will help your mom make more of a difference in your life this time. The stars know you probably listened to worse people on your path to becoming a mass murderer." Han waved his hand through the air.

Anakin gritted his teeth and tried to blister Han with the heat of his glare. "You're going to turn her against me!"

Refusing to show fear, Han scoffed. "I sincerely doubt it. That woman thinks the sun rises and sets on her son and nothing a stranger like me has to say will change that. It takes a lot more than a few criticisms to sway the love and loyalty of a Skywalker woman. Didn't you ever see how Leia was with Ben? Even after experiencing first-hand the pain and destruction he'd caused, she still kept on loving him and even refused to attack him head-on for fear of hurting him." Han shook his head at Anakin in disgust. "You doubt your mother too quickly. She obviously still loves you. Give her a little more trust and respect. I have a feeling she deserves that."

Shoulders rounding, Anakin looked down. He bit his lip in an eerie echo of Shmi from just a few hours before and wrapped his arms around his chest again. "I do love and respect her. It's me I don't trust, not her. I love her more than anything or anyone." Lifting his chin, he met Han's eyes and firmed his jaw. "I would do anything not to lose her again."

"Maybe that's your problem," Han said acerbically. "When you love someone more than life itself, you don't seem to have a problem destroying everyone and everything else. You're holding too tight, trying to own their choices and control their fate. I think there's a mountain of corpses proving just how well that worked out for everyone last time, including both you and the people you were so hot to save."

Anakin jerked his head to the side as if slapped, avoiding Han's eyes. His mouth worked but no words came out.

Good. It was about time he started listening. He should feel bad about what he'd done.

"Newsflash, you aren't a god," Han said. "You can't control everything, not even the Force. Your trying to turned you into a tyrannical psychopath and allowed Palpatine to break the Force and doom the galaxy and your family—my family—to extinction."

"I was just trying to save the ones I loved…but it all went wrong," Anakin whispered, hunched over and baring his teeth at something only he could see. "Everything went wrong."

Han pointed a finger at him. "Then do it right this time. Do it differently, stop whining, and don't screw up."

Expression flattening, Anakin'e eyes narrowed as he took offense and stopped listening. Straightening to his full height, he shook his head as he looked Han up and down. "Who are you of all people to tell me not to screw up, Han Solo? What do you know about successful relationships and the best way to love somebody? Or about doing things right?" He crossed his arms, widened his stance, and looked down his nose at Han. "I'm the Chosen One, not you. I understand the Force, not you."

Snorting, Han rolled his eyes, tucked a thumb into his belt, and leaned back on one leg. "Yeah, and I'm the only one with a living body—not you, you moof milker—so stuff a cork in it."

Eyes glittering, the ghostly blue glow around Anakin started to dim even as the first of Tatooine's two suns sank below the horizon, making Han aware of just how dark and abandoned this corner of the parking lot was. "Very well." Anakin's voice seemed to ooze out of the shadows. "Since you're so confident, I'll let you take the long way instead of skipping you ahead to meet up with Ben."

That made Han straighten up in a hurry and take a quick step forward, hands held out placatingly. "Wait, Ben's still alive? I mean, not alive, but he's still here? His Force Ghost?" Sucking in a quick breath, Han rounded his shoulders and smiled, trying to make himself look more friendly. "Let's not be hasty. I'll admit that I could use some help. I certainly want to be where Ben is sooner rather than later." He'd only agreed to this plan in the first place because he thought Ben was going to be doing it with him. Not Anakin bloody Skywalker!

Lips quirking, Anakin became even more transparent as the second sun disappeared from view, taking the last of the light with it. "It should only take you about—oh—three years or so to catch up to Ben to help him finish off Palpatine." Han felt the blood rush from his head, making him feel faint. "As the only one with a living body, just make sure you find enough work to keep yourself fed and alive till then. Even if you are past your prime, that shouldn't be too hard for you. After all, you've always been at home amongst the criminal element and, if the pirates and smugglers won't take you, you can always get a job milking moofs."

Lurching forward, Han barely stopped himself from a pointless grab at the shadows where he could barely make out the ghost's arm. "Hold up, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry, alright! I shouldn't have said that." Han was willing to say whatever it took to change Anakin's mind, even grovel. "I need your help. There, I said it. I'm sorry, so can you take me to Ben, now? Please?" Han smiled and tried not to shiver. The desert got cold at night and the dark expression on Anakin's face filled him with ice-cold dread.

"No…I don't think so. Some things are better not rushed just like some dishes are better served…cold."

"Anakin, c'mon," Han said, scrambling to find the right thing to say. "We're supposed to work together."

Anakin's lips quirked as he shook his head slowly. "The slow plan it is. I'd explain more, but someone told me to stuff a cork in it and, as a Jedi, I live to serve. Good luck, Han. You're going to need it." He started melting away into the shadows. "I won't say Force be with you, because it probably won't be, but don't worry," his bared teeth appeared in a flash of pale white. "I'll be with you instead, especially when things are at their worst and you're feeling your lowest. In fact, I look forward to seeing it." Lifting his fingers, he gave Han a little wave.

There was only one appropriate response to that.

Han pulled his gun and shot him between the eyes. Unfortunately, the blaster bolt slid harmlessly through Anakin's ghost, sizzling as it struck the packed sand behind him and left a small crater of glass. Smirking, he disappeared, leaving Han alone in the dark.

Jamming his blaster back into the holster, Han felt mad enough to spit blood. "First chance I get, I'm gonna shoot that guy," he vowed. "Just see if I don't."

AN: Han has both some wonderful traits and some really terrible ones, but I guess you can say the same about Anakin.

I've got a cough that won't quit, so I bought myself a subscription to Viki to watch Asian dramas. I speak the most Japanese, but their selection there is limited. Korean dramas are my favorite. I re-watched "What's Wrong with Secretary Kim?" and then binged "Descendants of the Sun," which I loved. I might rewatch "Goblin" or "Faith the Great Doctor." I just started a fun Chinese costume drama called, "Wrong carriage, right groom." Any recs?